Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Anything?” Trey’s voice fills my ears.
“Nope. But there is a staircase leading to the levels below. I’m heading down there now.” I sneak down the stairs, still not hearing anything. There’s a heavy iron door ahead of me and I open it, entering into another hallway. Is this a fucking maze? That’s when I hear it, the sound of feet shuffling.
“I hear something up ahead,” I whisper. It sounds like people are walking around.
“She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think? It’s a shame her father wants her dead,” an unknown male voice says. My muscles tense, my entire body vibrating with anger as I move quicker than before down the hall. The voices grow louder as I get closer to them. I stop directly in front of the door where I hear the voices emitting.
“We could always keep her. Use her as our plaything for a while. You can’t possibly think that the Cameron’s haven’t done the same…” Gritting my teeth, I can’t bear to listen to another word. Without even blinking I kick the door in and fire off three bullets, each hitting their intended targets before the fuckers can say another word. They fall to the ground, dead, and I scan the room, looking for anyone else. When I don’t see anyone, I press my back to the wall and exhale a breath.
“Three down,” I tell Trey, peeking out of the room. Trey was right, this looks to be like more of a fucking compound than a fucking business. As I exit the room and move deeper down the hall, I notice that it opens up into a huge commons area, and there aren’t but one or two bastards sitting in the place. I hear the sound of Trey’s gun being fired.
Three shots. Three bullets. Three fewer fuckers to kill.
“Three more down,” Trey whispers.
“Did you hear that?” one of the men says, looking up from his newspaper. I take that moment, pop around the corner and pull the trigger on my gun. Like always, my bullet hits right where I aim. The other man looks over at me, terror overtaking his features. From the looks of it, he doesn’t have any weapons, but then again, I can’t be sure.
“Where are they?” I demand. The man doesn’t even get a chance to answer before I hear the sound of Trey’s gun going off. The bullet enters the man’s brain, blood and brain matter exploding everywhere before his body sags to the ground.
Trey appears in front of me a moment later, a grin on his face.
“Show off,” I sneer. He rolls his eyes.
“As if I was going to just let you sit there and interrogate him. I know where they are.”
“Is that all of them?” I ask Trey.
“On this floor, yes. There are two more downstairs where they’re holding Wes and Jessa.”
“Lead the way, fucker.”
“Don’t be jealous, brother. We both know you’re a good shot too.” He blows me a pretend kiss and heads for a door off the side of this room.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jessa
“Wes,” I whisper his name, though I know it doesn’t matter anymore if they hear me. Before he can answer me, the door opens. I can tell because the door squeaks when you open and close it. A set of footsteps accompany the squeaking of the door and my heart races so fast I think I’m in danger of having a heart attack. Dear lord, I hope Trey and Declan are coming. A second ticks by and then the bag on my head is ripped away forcefully.
My eyes blink open and it feels like the sun is burning into my retinas. Scanning the room I try to take in my surroundings. I don’t get very far before a large man comes to stand in front of me, blocking out most of the overhead light, making it easier for me to see. I peer up at the man and wish I hadn’t. Terror grips me in an instant. The man before me is as menacing as it gets. Dark eyes, scarred skin, with tattoos on his face. He looks like a gang member, and he’s staring at me like I’m a prime rib and he hasn’t eaten in seven days.
“Mhm…I don’t think it will take much to break you, little one,” he tells me in a thick Middle Eastern accent, his fingers gliding across my yoga pant covered leg. “It will still be fun though, for me… not so much for you.” He chuckles as if anything he’s said is amusing.
When he turns away from me, I scan the room looking for Wes. As soon as I find him, the man that was just in front of me, starts walking over to him. He rips the bag from his head and grabs him by the back of his neck, forcing his head backward.